


Rebounded

by Newtavore



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3178280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtavore/pseuds/Newtavore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look, Horuss,” he says, voice soft, warm, “I just… I got too much pity in me for one person, you know? I can’t be tied down. I love you doll, I really do, but... ”</p><p>You don’t think he has too much pity for one person. You think he doesn’t have enough pity for anyone but himself. You wonder, abstractly, if he ever pitied you in the first place or whether you were just… something to occupy his time.</p><p>“I understand.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebounded

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to practice writing new characters. im really not happy with this but im not going to fiddle with it anymore, so take it

He holds your hands as he does it.

 

His own are so warm compared to yours, warm and strong and broad, but you know that if you wanted to, if you weren’t careful, then you could snap his fingers in two. He smiles, easy and wide and everything you strive hard to emulate but never quite manage, but he refuses to look you in the eye as he rips your heart from your chest and stomps on it.

 

His warm eyes stare at the floor, and he shifts from foot to foot, palms sweating.

 

“Look, Horuss,” he says, voice soft, warm, “I just… I got too much pity in me for one person, you know? I can’t be tied down. I love you doll, I really do, but... ”

 

You don’t think he has too much pity for one person. You think he doesn’t have enough pity for anyone but himself. You wonder, abstractly, if he ever pitied you in the first place or whether you were just… something to occupy his time.

 

“I understand,” you say, and your voice sounds distant, like you’re speaking at the end of a tunnel a long, long way away. Like your mind and your body are separated. Like you aren’t connected anymore.

 

“Really?”

 

He lights up, smiling broadly at you- and what looks so strange on your own face, so unnatural, it looks perfect on him. His teeth shine. You want to punch them in.

 

“Thanks so much for being so cool about this, doll. Hey, maybe we can… get back together some other time.”

 

The only reason you’re being _so cool_ about this is because if you let go, if you release your emotions on him, it’s likely he won’t survive. You want to scream and yell and hit, but you are in control. You are superior, you are efficacious, you are competent. You have a handle on your emotions, and as much as you wish you could, you will not harm him.

 

You nod and smile, and his smile falls away, just like it always does. He laughs nervously, wings fluttering, and makes his excuses before wandering off, leaving you alone.

 

You hate being alone, but you can’t seem to help it. You always end up as such, in the end.

 

Meulin has tried to help, but nothing she suggests ever works. You do try to listen to her, for as much as she’s… unfortunately low on the spectrum, she is wise beyond her blood colour, and she’s offered you valuable advice… It’s just hard to follow, at times. You tried to smile, be happy, but… You just aren’t. You aren’t, and now, you don’t even have a reason to pretend, anymore.

 

You blink, and you touch your cheek; your face is wet, and not with sweat, for once. Tears fall from your blank eyes, and then the ground rushes up to meet you and you’re on your knees, sobbing. The smile Meulin told you to always keep on your face hurts.  Everything hurts. You just don’t want to be alone. It’s undignified, but you don’t know how long you spend on your knees in the dirt, smiling and crying your eyes out because he left you, he promised, he lied- minutes, hours, maybe days. Light doesn’t change in the dream bubbles.

 

You punch the ground once, but the crater you leave behind is enough to prevent you from trying such a thing again. As angry as you are, as hurt as you are, the surrounding landscape has done you no harm. It doesn’t deserve your anger. Nothing deserves your anger except yourself and your stupidity. You were the one so _fudging_ sure that everything was going fine, that everything was working out. You were aware, on some base level, that something was wrong, but you just… hadn’t wanted to admit it.

 

You’d kept yourself in the dark, because you were stupid and afraid. You’d denied your flaws and your faults, your clinginess and bad habits and everything you know he left you for, and now you’re paying for it. Now, you’re alone.

 

“He dump you too, huh?”

 

A hand settles on your back, small and dainty and long nailed; you can smell the perfume she wears, and her accent floats between your ears, in the empty space where you’re sure a brain once rested. 

 

You nod, too tired to even be startled. Damara settles on the floor, cross legged, and combs her fingers through your ponytail, looking something other than utterly wrathful, for once.

 

“Only matter of time. He get bored easy, jump ship. Move on to next shiny thing.”

 

You look up. She grabs your chin in her hands, taps at your lips with one thin finger.

 

“Why smiling? Stop. It stupid. Only smile when happy, or not at all.”

 

Your lips settle, falling into a neutral expression. It feels good. Your cheeks ache, but it’s a good ache, like relaxing after a vigorous workout- which, you suppose, is exactly what is happening.

 

She runs a finger over your lips, and nods, her own mouth pulled into her customary frown. You wonder if her face ever hurts, from her own unchanging expression.

 

“Better.”

 

You stare at her, blankly; she stares back, her own dead eyes boring into you critically, as if searching out all your flaws, picking you apart bit by bit, as if she’s looking and finding all the reasons Rufioh hadn’t been happy with you. You don’t know why she’s looking. All she has to do is ask, and you’d be able to name each and every one.

 

“You not know,” she says, her voice softening, tone mellowing out, and it’s… almost musical, now, almost lilting, “That he dating me, when you two kiss. Yes?”

 

You shake your head, and her hand moves with you, her grip on your chin never wavering.

 

“Not at first,” you reply, your own voice as hoarse and dissonant as hers isn’t, for once, “And by the time I did, I just...”

 

You couldn’t pull away from him. You’d been roped in.

 

She nods, as if she understands. Perhaps she does.

 

“Rufioh is garbage can, but he very convincing garbage can. Garbage can that smell like roses until boom! Suddenly garbage stink in your nose, all over your clothes, all over you. Then you smell like garbage for sweeps. But you not alone, silly boy,” she says, her fingers soft and _warm warm warm_ against your skin, “We stick together, yes? We be happy. He get jealous, maybe, but fuck him. He nothing but わるがき, spoiled child. サボテンとお尻を彼をファック. So stop crying. Tears not help anything. Crying okay for little while, but you cry pitiful long time, ponyboy. Get up.”

 

She tugs on your chin, and you stand, nearly towering over her small frame. She’s so much smaller than Rufioh, than you, but she grips your ponytail in one hand and leads you easily down the gravel walkways, away from the crater in the ground and the blue, tearstained dirt.

 

“I take you home,” she’s saying, and you never would have guessed someone as lowblooded as her would have had such command to her, such confidence, “Make you tea. We talk, get to know each other.”

 

She turns back to look at you, and she winks.

 

“Then I eat you out on couch and make sure you cry only from pleasure for now on, yes?”

 

You gape, and blush, and she laughs, giving your hair a tug as she walks to her hive. You’re not sure how much of her statement is true, but… you think you would not object to finding out.

 

Is this what they call a ‘rebound’?

 


End file.
